


Scattered Threads

by Errolina



Series: Web of Threads [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Multi, Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-04 10:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Errolina/pseuds/Errolina
Summary: Soulmate strings can be complicated at times. Their only reliable factor is that they can withstand the test of time.*This is a compilation of soulmate one-shots*





	1. INDEX PAGE

_**Hey all!** _

This is just an authors note.

I'm going to be posting the first official chapter within the next week or so. This will still pertain to the soulmate string series. I'm still open to more pairings, so go ahead and comment if you want a certain pairing! I will be adjusting the list below to add more ships!

  * Lilia Baranovskaya / Yakov Feltsman ( _Loose String_ ) ([ **POSTED/CHAPTER 2**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10274348/chapters/26731524))
  * Jean-Jacques Leroy / Isabella Yang ( _Pull at My Heartstrings_ )
  * Ji Guang-Hong / Leo De La Iglesia ( _Symphony of Strings_ )
  * Phichit Chulanont / Seung-Gil Lee ( _Tangling Strings)_




	2. Loose String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov Feltsman had been told as a child that his soulmate would come to him later in life. The old spaewife told his mother that his soulmate would take a few years to appear. It took him a few years to understand what that meant, but eventually Yakov decided not to believe in his soulmate. Romance was a distraction that he didn't want to deal with. Love was a messy thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to not having a lot of info on their ages available, I did some research via Yakov Feltsman (Tumblr: ask-yakov-feltsman really helped a lot with their ages and trying to guess their younger appearances!)  
> Yakov Feltsman – 70 (DOB: 1947) (Youth: 33 – 1980) 
> 
> Lilia Baranovskaya -  58 (DOB: 1959) (Youth: 21 – 1980) 
> 
> Age difference: 12 

 

Yakov Feltsman had been told as a child that his soulmate would come to him later in life. The old spaewife told his mother that his soulmate would take a few years to appear. It took him a few years to understand what that meant, but eventually Yakov decided not to believe in his soulmate. Romance was a distraction that he didn't want to deal with. Love was a messy thing. Yakov knew this personally having watched his parents struggle with their marriage. They were soulmates, but they just somehow couldn't make it work. A childhood filled with the sounds of screaming adults and slamming doors deterred Yakov from thoughts of his soulmate. Any hopes he had for true love was shattered when his parents divorced. At that moment Yakov knew that a life alone was better than a life of heartbreak. 

From the time he was a teenager, he watched some of his friends either find or miss their soulmate. He couldn't deny that he felt happy for his friends that found them, but he also empathized with the friends who missed their one minute. Yakov didn't get his hopes up. There was no use in waiting for someone who might never come to him. The years went by and Yakov found himself completely immerged in figure skating. He was slowly climbing the senior men's ranks. Yakov Feltsman became a household name in Russia by the 1970s. His family gladly supported him and he had thousands of fans. Many people approached him and many approached him to see if they would feel the pull. Those interactions ended with an awkwardly flustered Yakov and upset fans. 

Yakov did competitive skating for a few more years before he retired at the age of twenty-six. He had hit that mid-twenties mark with no pull. The thought of his soulmate never crossed him mind. Yakov took to his old skating school in St. Petersburg and began coaching. Students came and went, but he remained about the same for the next seven years. At the age of thirty-three, all Yakov did was coach and skate. There was never anything new in his schedule and his fellow skating instructors reminded him of that. 

"Don't you ever do anything apart from come down here?" An instructor named Andrey asked him one winter morning while they warmed up on the ice. 

Yakov brushed his dark chestnut hair back and turned to the other man. Andrey was younger than him by a few years and was probably the liveliest instructor of the bunch. The redheaded Andrey skated towards Yakov coming to a hard stop and spraying the older man with ice. Yakov shifted to the side and growled at the other man. 

"I do plenty of other things," Yakov replied. 

"Hm? Really? Like what?" 

Yakov was silent for a bit before he answered. 

"I read and go the library. I go see ballets from time to time." 

Andrey snorted. 

"Boo you bore," Andrey laughed as he skated in a circle around Yakov. 

Yakov sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"We're going to Moscow this weekend," Andrey told him, "Come with us." 

Yakov scowled at the other man before speaking, "I have no business in Moscow." 

Yakov skated away from Andrey who continued to follow him. 

"Come now Yakov. The others are going to nightclubs, but I have something you might like," Andrey said. 

"And what would that be?" Yakov snorted. 

"Bolshoi Ballet tickets for  _The Seagull._ What do you say old man?" Andrey asked Yakov. 

Yakov slowed down.  _The Seagull_  had been given amazing reviews since its debut earlier that year and Yakov always was fond of ballet. Bolshoi Ballet was also wildly popular at the time making tickets hard to get.  Yakov stopped in his tracks and Andrey almost crashed into him. 

"I'll go," Yakov said after Andrey got himself together. 

Andrey gave the older man a gummy smile, "I'm glad to hear that! I'll tell you more about the trip later. Everyone is finally showing up." 

Andrey was right. Teen and some young adults were showing up for their lessons. Yakov nodded and they both glided over to the rink barrier to greet their students. 

* * *

It was a four hour train ride from St. Petersburg to Moscow. The train had left in the early morning hours and the sunrise found four men stumbling off the train half-asleep at Leningradsky Train Station. After a short banter about breakfast, the four men walked into a nearby café. Yakov looked up from his strawberry jam blinis when he heard his name called. 

"So off to the ballet are we Yakov?" Sasha, a new instructor asked him. 

"I hear the women at Bolshoi are quite beautiful," Grisha, another instructor, commented. 

Yakov hummed and took a sip of his coffee. 

"Beauty doesn’t matter if they can't dance. I have high standards for this company," Yakov replied. 

Sasha nudged Grisha. 

"I thought you had your soulmate?" Sasha chuckled. 

Grisha waved his hand at the other man. 

"I was just playing around Sasha. Yulia knows we're out here anyways. She's fine with it," Grisha said back. 

"Be careful. She'll have you by the ears if you misbehave," Sasha laughed. 

Yakov rolled his eyes at the men. 

"You two are meeting with others?" Andrey asked. 

"Yeah. We're going to meet up with those two English skaters and some of our old rinkmates," Grisha said. 

"Bar and then club...or maybe the other way around. Not sure yet," Sasha said taking a bite out of a sausage link. 

The four men finished their breakfasts and called a cab. Ten minutes later, they were outside of their hotel. Yakov decided to catch up on some sleep while the others walked the city. He woke up in the early afternoon and ordered some late lunch from room service. Yakov walked to the bathroom and washed his face. The ice water finished waking him up. He stared at his reflection. 

His reflection stared back at him. Blue eyes framed by dark lashes stared back at Yakov. He touched the edges of his eyes lightly. Wrinkles had started forming there a few years ago, crinkling every time he smiled or squinted his eyes. There were even fine lines at the edge of his mouth. Age was finally settling in. Yakov huffed and brushed his hair back sighing. Yakov looked almost exactly like his father did when he was the same age. Yakov scowled at the thought. Andrey arrived not that long after to find Yakov getting dressed. 

"Ah, nice outfit you got there," Andrey snickered. 

Yakov snorted. This was the exact same outfit he wore for any formal occasion. He stepped up to the full body mirror by the door and fixed his gray tie. He wore a light brown blazer with a matching vest as well as gray pants and brown oxfords. 

"It's my best suit," Yakov replied. 

"I can tell," Andrey's voice said from the bathroom. 

"Hurry up. I don't want to be late," Yakov said. 

"Da da," Andrey laughed. 

* * *

The Bolshoi Theatre was a sight. It had been drowned in the neoclassical aesthetics of the 1850s and it continued to glamour all of those who looked upon it now. Large and almost intimidating, the building stood strong with its thick white columns and intricate wall designs. Lights were lit and a steady stream of people were coming in and out of the theatre. Andrey and Yakov found themselves slipping into the flow of the stream of people and making it to the entrance. After presenting their tickets, they slipped into the auditorium and found their seats. Yakov still wondered where Andrey had gotten his tickets from since they were not even three rows away from the front of the stage. 

They settled down and relaxed. Well, tried to at least. Yakov pulled at his tie and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The auditorium seemed unusually hot, but Yakov attributed that to the amount of people trickling in. He noticed a few photographers off to the side of the stage. Andrey noticed Yakov's uneasiness. 

"Are you feeling ok?" Andrey asked. 

Yakov waved him off. 

"It's a bit stuffy in here," Yakov commented. 

"Feels fine to me," Andrey said making a face.  

One of the photographers were walking down in front of the first row when he stopped almost in front of Yakov and Andrey's seats. The photographer waved. Yakov quickly recognized them as a rink side photographer from the Grand Prix. Yakov pulled at his tie and he waved back at the familiar face. They seemed to note Yakov's odd discomfort, but continued on their way. It wasn't soon before the room was full of people and a low murmur echoed through the auditorium. Audrey turned to Yakov once again, noting that his friend was sweating. 

"Yakov...are you ok?" Audrey asked a bit more worried this time. 

Yakov waved him off once again. The lights soon dimmed and the music began. The stage curtains pulled back and the dancers came out. Different dancers swept across the floor before the music came to introduce the main female dancers. Yakov's heart was beating fast and his hands were trembling. Andrey, oblivious to his friend's condition, leaned over slightly without looking away from the stage to comment something. 

"That's the new appointed prima ballerina. She just turned twenty-one. She's a dancing genius," Andrey whispered. 

Long and graceful, the prima ballerina had come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the stage. She came down from standing en pointe and stared wide eyed into the crowd. Yakov abruptly stood up, everyone around him murmuring. Andrey quickly stood up to tend to his friend, but stopped when he saw Yakov's hand clutching at his chest. 

"Ah," Andrey said with a gummy smile as he pushed his friend down the aisle. 

The ballerina saw the movement in the crowd. She quickly scattered to the side of the stage. Yakov felt like he had momentarily lost track of time. One second, he was by his seat, now he stood in front of the stage, arms outreached and holding onto slim, strong arms who did the same to him. Green eyes were staring into his, their eyes locked on one another. There were flashes of light and the theatre was applauding. 

"Do you see that?!" 

"Is that Yakov Feltsman?" 

"They're soulmates?!" 

Yakov finally regained himself momentarily. He was staring into the face of someone much younger than him. She had the sweetest face he had ever seen, her eyes his most favorite part. A hand was placed on his shoulder and Andrey spoke. 

"Let's go backstage," Andrey told the two as the photographers became bolder and tried to approach the couple. 

The young woman moved to stand up, her arms still latched on Yakov's. She cocked her head and he understood. She pulled him up by the arms as he pushed off the stage wall. He climbed onto the stage and Andrey quickly pulled himself up. She quickly pulled him at him to follow her backstage. 

"Lilia!!" A shrill voice shouted once they had gone past the curtains. 

An older woman in her late forties appeared before them. The woman was livid. 

"What is this?!" The woman snapped 

"What does it look like?" The ballerina, Lilia, laughed as she tugged the older man's arm. 

* * *

"Who would of thought," Andrey smiled at Yakov, "Lilia Baranovskaya. Prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet is your soulmate." 

Yakov was leaning against the brick wall of the theatre's green room. Lilia had left them to go calm down the woman who turned out to be the theatre's artistic director. Yakov seemed to have a troubled look on his face. 

"Yakov?" Andrey said after receiving no response. 

"She's so young," Yakov sighed. 

Andrey paused for a second. Yakov pulled himself off the wall before looking at him. 

"I think we should leave," Yakov muttered as he made his way to the door. 

Andray immediately grabbed Yakov's arm and tried to pull him back to their corner. 

"Hey, you just can't leave. She's coming back at any second," Andrey said in a low voice. 

He peered at the open door and back at Yakov. What had gotten into Yakov? Andrey knew that Yakov never seemed to think about the subject of soulmates. Yakov would always stay silent in those conversations, never speaking up or making himself busy with something else. Andrey took in his friends expression. An odd stern look had come to appear on Yakov's face. The older man said nothing as Andrey pulled them back to the spot Lilia had left them. Yakov spoke after a tense moment. 

"I don't think she would be comfortable with me," Yakov muttered. 

Andrey scoffed and smacked the older man on the arm. Yakov glared at Andrey. 

"Stop being ridiculous," Andrey said back, "I think I hear her coming." 

Andrey was right. The young woman had appeared at the doorway with some water bottles in her arms. She had slipped on an oversized jacket and her slippers now hung over her shoulder. 

"As they say, the show must go on," Lilia smiled. 

Yakov stared at the young woman before looking away. Her smile was bright. She was full of life. Yakov felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. She was a girl compared to him. A girl who had so much more to see in the world. There was nothing he could offer her that she could not get herself. Yakov saw nothing coming from this relationship. 

"Yakov," Andrey muttered jabbing the older man with his elbow. 

"Ah," Yakov grunted. 

Yakov looked back at the ballerina. A concerned look graced her brow. She was adorable. Yakov looked away. He had to leave before she began rubbing off on him. 

"Let's go Andrey," Yakov said pushing past Lilia. 

"What?!" His friend nearly shouted. 

Lilia made her way to the door before Yakov and blocked his way, "Wait!" 

Lilia wasn't as tall as Yakov, the top of her head only reaching his line of sight, but she made herself large by holding her ground in front of the door. She had a confused and angry look on her face. The look in her eyes was sharp and direct. 

"Where are you going?" Lilia snapped, "You're not leaving" 

Yakov chuckled. An angel's face with a soldier attitude. He wiped the smile off his face before he spoke. 

"I will be leaving," He said, "Now if you'll excuse me." 

Yakov grabbed the young woman by the arms, picked her up and placed her on the side of the door. Her face was bright red as blood rushed to her head. Yakov quickly made his way out the door and down the stairs. He was halfway down before he noticed Andrey wasn't following. 

"Andrey!" He called. 

Andrey quickly scampered down the steps to meet him. The two left the theatre and headed to their hotel room. There Yakov laid in his bed staring at the ceiling 

"Are you sure about this?" Andrey asked after a long silence. 

"She'll be better off without me," Yakov responded. 

Silence penetrated the hotel room once again. Tomorrow they would be on a train back to St.Petersburg. Tomorrow would be a better day. 

* * *

Tomorrow was not a better day. When Andrey and Yakov had been getting ready to go down for breakfast, they were interrupted with banging at the door. Yakov opened the door to find Sasha shoving a newspaper in his face. 

"Yakov! You lucky dog!" Grisha's voice said as the two shoved their way into the hotel room. 

Yakov was finally able to pull the newspaper far enough away to see what the front page was about. 

' _Legendary Figure Skater, Yakov Feltsman, finds Soulmate in Prima Ballerina, Lilia Baranovskaya!'_  

Yakov groaned as he saw the large picture under the headline. It was him standing before the stage, arms and eyes locked with Lilia. 

"You're going to be the hottest soulmate match of the year," Sasha laughed. 

"When do we get to meet her?!" Grisha grinned. 

"We won't," Andrey said coming out of the bathroom. 

Both Grisha and Sasha stopped as they looked from Andrey to Yakov. Yakov sighed and went back to fixing his clothing. 

"I left," Yakov said, "We wouldn't work out." 

Grisha's head leaned back as he unleashed a deep guttural sound as Sasha threw his hands in the air. The chaos began. 

"What?!" 

"How could you dump Lilia fucking Baranovskaya?!" 

"You have to go back!" 

"He probably broke her heart!" 

"He probably  _did_ break her heart!" 

"Yakov you idiot!" 

Yakov rolled his eyes at the two younger men. They knew nothing of the situation. The afternoon found them on their train back to St. Petersburg. Yakov had been staring out the window before their train pulled away. There was the slightest pull at his chest. Yakov's eyes searched the crowd of people in the station. There was no way that she was out there, but he could feel her pulling. Yakov looked away. The sooner they left this city, the faster he would be back to his normal schedule. 

* * *

"Nevsky Ice?" The shop owner muttered. 

The old woman seemed to peer out her shop window before turning back to the young woman. 

"See that street? Go down it and turn left on the third street. Go down until you see it," The old woman said as she finished packing the pirozhki into the small carry out box. 

"I see, thank you," the young woman smiled as she took the box. 

It had been three weeks since that night. Lilia had found herself preparing for a trip out to St. Petersburg the moment she had gotten home. She had planned on leaving the next day, but found it difficult as the paparazzi came in droves to take pictures or to try to talk to her. She waited for everything to die down more before buying her train ticket. Now she found herself in the streets of St. Petersburg on a cold morning. Lilia made her way in the direction of the skating rink. That night as Yakov left, Yakov's friend, Andrey, lingered behind and had slipped a business card into Lilia's hand. 

 _"Find him here,"_  Andrey had said,  _"_ _He's_ _a stubborn bastard, but he's just a bit scared is all_ _._ _"_  

Lilia had scoffed. What a selfish motive. Did Yakov honestly think he was the only one that was scared? Lilia soon found herself in front of the skating rink. She made her way to the entrance and pulled at the door. It made no noise as she opened it. The lobby was simple. A large desk was directly in front of the door, a large room behind it full of skates and other skating equipment. The rest of the lobby was empty with the exception of a few benches and small lockers. There were double doors that she guessed led to the rink.  

Lilia approached the door and peeked through the small windows. There was a lone figure on the ice. She immediately recognized it as Yakov. Yakov was dressed much more casually than when she first saw him. He had lost the suit and now wore black pants, a simply grey long sleeved shirt and black gloves. She watched how he casually glided across the ice, every once and a while doing some more intricate footwork. Lilia smiled. She remembered watching him on television for the first time when she was twelve. The man was a wonder and she aspired to find that mastery in her own dancing. He was a lot younger then, but he hadn't changed too much. He was still tall and straight, his face still handsome and his hair still the beautiful chestnut she envied. 

"Lilia!" A voice said as a hand patted her on the shoulder. 

Lilia gasped and almost dropped her box of pirozhkis. Lilia looked at who had greeted her. It was Andrey, the redheaded man who had been with Yakov that night. 

"I thought it was about time you showed up," Andrey said flashing a gummy smile. 

"Ah, yes. I got a bit tied up in Moscow," Lilia explained. 

"Have you talked with Yakov yet?" Andrey asked. 

Lilia shook her head and Andrey simply nodded his head in understanding. 

"Want me to call him over?" He smiled. 

Lilia shook her head, "Is there somewhere I can speak with him? Privately?" 

Andrey's smile grew wider, he looked like a giddy child. Andrey motioned for her to follow him. There was a small hallway on the other side of the lobby that led to the other side of the rink. Towards the end were a few small offices. Andrey pulled a key out and opened the door to one. 

"This is Yakov's office," Andrey said. 

He opened the door and Lilia peered into the office. It was simple. A small empty desk and a small metal bookcase on the side with a few binders and books. There was only one chair and that was the one that was at the desk. 

"Wait here," Andrey told her, "I'll try to get him over here in a few minutes." 

Lilia stepped into the office and Andrey closed the door. She decided to place her box down on the desk as she looked around some more. He had his medals hanging on the wall across from the desk. Pictures of him and other skaters covered most of the board he had there. The further down she looked the board the less she saw of other notable skaters and the more she saw of teenagers and children with Yakov. She heard the sound of a key entering the lock before the door opened.  

"By time Yakov," Lilia said. 

Yakov turned his head to look at Lilia. The look on his face was definitely one of surprise and shock. Yakov turned to look outside the door and gave whoever stood there a disgruntled look. Yakov closed the door and walked over to his desk sitting down in the lone chair. Lilia tsked. 

"What are you doing here Lilia?" Yakov said looking at the box on his desk. 

"What do you think? You left me alone that night. I came to talk about what we're going to do relationship wise. You're my soulmate. The media already assumes we're together either way. They don't know about your little escape that night," Lilia said approaching the desk. 

Yakov opened the box and peered in. The pirozhkis stared back. He raised his eyebrows. 

"How did you find out where I was?" He said picking one up. 

Lilia had decided from the beginning to lie about who gave her the business card. It seemed Andrey would be her only informant for now. 

"You're Yakov Feltsman, the top skater in the world," Lilia responded, "Finding you was fairly easy." 

"Top skater of my time," Yakov said biting into the pastry, "My time has passed." 

Lilia scoffed. 

"You're honestly not that old. It hasn’t been  _that_  long," Lilia rebutted. 

Yakov laughed before choking on the food. Lilia rolled her eyes. Yakov cleared his throat. 

"Lilia, what do you want here?" Yakov said taking the last of the pirozhki in one bite. 

"What do you think? I came in search of my soulmate," Lilia responded. 

"Andrey gave you information right? That Andrey I swear," Yakov said standing up, "He's the one who told you about the pirozhkis right?" 

Lilia put herself in front of Yakov. 

"Andrey has told me nothing," She snapped at Yakov, "I brought my favorite pirozhkis for you." 

Lilia didn't miss it. A soft tenderness flinted in those blue eyes. 

"Why are you so reluctant to take me?" Lilia said after Yakov had failed to respond, "Do you not want me?" 

Yakov's brow wrinkled and he took a step back. Lilia stepped forward. 

"You're not the problem," Yakov said back, "I have my own issues. Don't worry yourself about this." 

"What are your issues then Yakov? I'm now here for you. Why do you pull away from me? What are you scared of?" 

"Lilia. Stop." 

"Yakov, I have waited years for you as I am sure you have waited years for me. Why are you pulling away from me?" 

Lilia pressed closer and Yakov kept stepping back. Yakov had hit the wall and he refused to look at her. She feel their string thrumming. She could feel it and so could he. A look almost indescribable graced his face. Yakov turned to look at Lilia and she could see tears welling in his eyes. Yakov's hand was clutching at his chest. 

"Why are you doing this to me Lilia?" Yakov said in a low voice. 

Tears finally spilled. Lilia touched his cheek wiping the tear away. The action was so strange for someone who had only met him once, but the loving touch felt so right. 

"You're scared Yakov," Lilia whispered, "It's ok to be scared." 

All the years Yakov had spent as a child watching his parents shook him to his core, especially in this moment. Yakov didn't want to ever see that for this young woman. He didn't want to have their relationship break and destroy her. He didn't want to see Lilia become his mother, who had spent her last years surronded by loved ones, but still so irrevocably alone. Lilia was still young, she could do so much better than him. Yakov had nothing to offer Lilia. 

"I have nothing to give you but heartaches," Yakov told her. 

Lilia sighed and came even closer. Her arms wrapped around him and she laid her head against his chest. 

"I will take whatever you give me," Lilia responded. 

* * *

The first few years of their marriage were more wonderful than Yakov could have every expected it to have been. After Lilia had learned of Yakov's parents, she finally understood his reluctance to take her as his soulmate. Even though both had a mutual understanding of each other, both found it difficult at times. They were soulmates. They were each other's perfect match and each other's perfect enemy. Lilia hated how Yakov let himself be eaten away at his own insecurities about their relationship and Yakov hated how Lilia tried to reason with him about those insecurities. 

Twenty-two years of marriage had found the two at a standstill. Yakov's fears had come back full force ten years into their marriage. Ten years. Ten years of never being able to have a child. Yakov felt that he had failed Lilia. Doctors had told Yakov he was infertile. Lilia had told Yakov not to worry, but he felt he had robbed her of a child. Perhaps... if he had never married her, Lilia would have been a mother. 

It was 2002 when Yakov had given Lilia the divorce papers. The thought of those stolen twenty two years had eaten away at Yakov. Lilia had a fit. She warned him. 

"I'll sign, but know this, the moment those papers are turned in, that will be the last time you see me," Lilia had cried after having failed to reason with him. 

Yakov found her things gone after having turned the paperwork in. Yakov took only the necessities and returned to St. Petersburg. The old skating rink he had worked at before offered him a deal. 

"We want to establish another school with you as the head," They had told him, "We believe it will be popular. The country needs another Feltsman." 

The school opened the next summer and Yakov was not let down with the talent he saw. One particular platinum blonde boy fascinated him. 

"My name is Viktor Nikiforov," The thirteen year old told Yakov. 

"Viktor Nikiforov huh? Not a bad name for a skater, but do you think you can reach the Grand Prix Junior finals?" 

"I'll do better. I'll win gold." 

Viktor didn't win gold that next year at the Grand Prix junior, but he did win it the next. And the next. And the next. With Viktor's rising popularity, Yakov's school flourished. The school kept him busy. Traveling with a teenage Viktor and coaching other skaters kept Yakov busy enough to not even have time to watch the news. When it was a time for a break between competitions, Yakov kept to himself in his small apartment. Viktor once complained about his lack of television. 

"Yakov, how do you watch the news? Didn't you say you liked ballet? You can watch it on tv you know," Nineteen year old Viktor had told him. 

As the years went by, Yakov got older. He found it easy to stay busy, especially with the new influx of talent coming into his school. He found it easy until Viktor left. Yakov had realized how much he had depended on his student. Viktor's antics had kept his mind off of things, but now that Viktor was gone he was left with no one to raise his blood pressure. All his other students were obedient. That was the problem. No one gave him trouble.  

Well, until Yuri Plisetsky left to follow that idiot Viktor. Yakov had initially lost it, to the humor of the rest of his students, but when Yuri came back changed, Yakov had immediately lost his anger towards the teen. Yakov saw that Viktor had worked his magic somehow. Yuri had the potential to win gold. He could win gold, but Yuri was missing something. For the first time in years, Yakov's mind thought of Lilia. The string seemed to feel like it tightened a bit. Over the last few years, Lilia and Yakov's divorce and lack of contact had loosened their bond. He knew she would be angry, but this was not for him. This was for Yuri. 

"What do you want?" The voice had snapped at him the moment the call was picked up. 

"Ah. Did I catch you in a bad moment?" Yakov asked. 

"What do you want Yakov?" 

"I have a student. He needs the best dance coach to choreograph his routine if I want him to win gold." 

"And?" 

"You're the best I know." 

Lilia had shown up to meet Yuri. The years had been kinder to Lilia than they had been to Yakov. Then again, their age difference was more apparent now than ever. She was still beautiful. Regardless of where his thoughts began to wander, Lilia was here only for one purpose. 

"Which one is he? If I do not like what I see, I'm leaving." 

"Who's this hag?" Yuri had muttered. 

A mischievous spark danced in Lilia's eyes. She grabbed Yuri's face and pried his mouth open. 

"No cavities." 

She grabbed the teen's leg and pulling it up. Yuri grunted as he grabbed the railing to keep from falling. 

"Ow, ow, ow!" 

"Physically, he's abysmal," Lilia hummed, "We start from square one with ballet lessons." 

Yakov sighed, "Do what you want." 

"What the hell?" Yuri snapped. 

"I will choreograph your first your free skate, but first, you need to reach a goal. First you must become this season's prima ballerina... if you're willing to sell your soul to me to win." 

Yakov had almost forgotten how scary Lilia sounded at times when it came to dancing. Yuri agreed to her terms if that meant he would win. In the course of Yuri selling his soul, both Yakov and Yuri would end up staying in her home. 

"Blasted woman," Yakov muttered to himself as they closed up the rink. 

"Such a nice way to talk about your ex-wife Yakov," Yuri commented. 

The two were found themselves on Lilia's doorstep, each carrying a duffle bag of their belongings. Lilia came out to greet them and set the household rules. 

"I have a strict schedule everyone must follow." 

"There is a curfew. If you are not in this household by that time, you will be locked out for the night." 

"You may only eat of what is the fridge. There is no outside food allowed in this household." 

"If you make a mess, you clean it. I will not be cleaning after you." 

"You are responsible for cleaning and maintaining the cleanliness of your bedrooms." 

"You wake up when I wake up." 

Yuri gave Yakov a dirty look, almost as if blaming him for the situation. Yakov chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. Some of these rules were not new to him. Lilia's lifestyle was structured after her career. Although when they were married, Lilia did not have Yakov strictly follow them with her, she more than likely held him to these rules now. Lilia held out two keys. 

"These are your household keys. These are the only keys you will receive." 

* * *

Yakov only saw Yuri at the skating rink. Lilia had a tight leash on the teen, dragging him off to the dance studio when he was done with his skating practice. Once Yakov arrived at Lilia's home, Yuri was usually already in his guest room already haven eaten and gone to bed. Lilia was always sitting in the same spot, watching television as she had tea. The two had  gotten into the habit of not talking to each other unless needed, but dinner always was put away in the oven for Yakov. 

Yakov didn't ask where the food came from or who made it, but he already knew it was for him. It was always something he was fond of, never anything he disliked. Yakov was sure it was  Lilia that was the one making it, but due to their constant eating out during their relationship, he never tasted her cooking much. 

* * *

Yakov was in an irritated mood. 

"You need to focus Yuri! How do you expect to win gold if you can't focus!" Yakov snapped at the teen. 

"I was focused old man!" Yuri snapped back. 

"No you weren't!" Yakov said. 

Yuri scowled and was about to speak before Lilia spoke. 

"He's right Yuri," Lilia jumped in with a much softer tone, "You lost your focus and derailed the last bit of your performance. You know that I have spoken with you about this." 

Yuri glowered at Lilia, but said nothing. Lilia hummed. The teen rarely snapped back at her as much as he did at Yakov. Lilia looked at Yakov and Yakov looked at her a bit relieved. 

"Let's go home," Yuri grumbled under his breath. 

"Let's," Lilia responded. 

The woman and her protégé gathered Yuri's things as Yakov watched on. 

 _'Home'_  Yakov thought with a small smile. 

* * *

Rostelecom Cup was still a while away, but that did not deter Lilia from dragging Yuri out to train anytime his feet were not on the ice. Yakov noted the way that the woman doted on the teen. She was still strict with her regime, but Yakov did not miss the motherly motions Lilia extended to Yuri. Yuri found himself being doted on more than occasionally and much to his displeasure. 

"Stop it!" Yuri groaned. 

"Look now Yura, I cannot have my protégé walking around with dirt on his face!" Lilia replied as she wiped Yuri's cheek clean. 

"Tell me! Don't use your spit to clean it off!" 

"There. Go get your things. I brought you some lunch to eat on our way to the studio. Don't forget to tell everyone you're off to practice." 

Yuri glowered at the woman, but stomped off to get his things. 

"You're not usually this kind with your students Lilia," Yakov commented. 

Lilia arched a thin eyebrow at Yakov and looked back at the teen. Mila was teasing the boy and Yuri was swatting his rink mate with his skate covers. 

"I rarely have had any students this young. It is natural to worry about him more than the others," Lilia replied. 

Yuri came back with his bag. 

"Done," He told Lilia. 

Lilia reached out and brushed down Yuri's hair. 

"I have to teach you how to braid your hair child," She muttered, "Let us go now. See you at home Yakov." 

Yakov watched the two leave the rink. 

 _'Home_.' 

* * *

"Moving those jumps wasn't enough to beat that idiot JJ," Yuri growled as he yanked at his skates to take them off. 

Lilia put a hand on Yuri's and stopped the violent undressing of his feet. Yakov watched the woman move to take the skates off herself. 

"You placed second Yuri. You're on your way to first place. Barcelona will be your victory, but only if you stop worrying about others. Think about yourself first," Lilia's softly murmured to the teen. 

Yuri huffed, but he visibly relaxed as Lilia passed him his shoes, "Where is the pig?" 

"He went somewhere after the cry and kiss," Yakov said. 

Yuri went silent before grabbing the rest of his things. 

"I'll be back in a bit. I'm going to go get something from my grandpa before we go home," Yuri said before leaving. 

Yakov snorted. Lilia raised an eyebrow at him. 

"So he calls it home too," Yakov sighed as he made his way to one of the other coaches. 

* * *

"This paella is amazing" Lilia said after taking another bite. 

"I've had better," Yakov said back. 

"Sure you have Yakov." 

The Grand Prix banquet was in full swing and the infamous drunken dance of Katsuki had once again begun. Lilia and Yakov sat a safe distance away. They had let their gold winner off for the night to eat and to do as he pleased. Yuri had disappeared in less than a second. 

"So now what?" Lilia asked after a few more bites. 

Yakov leaned back into his seat and raised his eyebrows. 

"What do you mean? After the banquet? Well, first we go home of course," Yakov said after a few moments. 

Lilia put her spoon down and took a sip of water from her cup. 

"Home you say," Lilia said, "You say you're going home, but where is home for you Yakov?" 

Yakov looked at Lilia. She was watching Viktor and Katsuki dancing. 

"I could tell you where home is for me Lilia, but what is home to you?" 

Lilia smiled as she lifted her cup once again. 

"Home for me is Yuri cooking for us or driving us crazy with his music. Home is also having a full house. Home is nicer now than the last few years." 

"I think the same," Yakov said offering her a smile, "I'd really like to go home if you don't mind." 

"Of course," Lilia smirked, "Don't forget to do the dishes again though. I will kick you out for good if you leave another plate in my sink." 

Yakov laughed, "I'll try my best to not forget." 

 


End file.
